


No More Cake For Me

by RockinRobin88



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Anorexia, B/P disorder, BDD, Body Dysmorphia, Bulimia, Eating Disorders, Gen, HUGE TRIGGER WARNINGS, Please read with caution, honestly just a huge vent piece
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 20:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15614046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockinRobin88/pseuds/RockinRobin88
Summary: Sweets, snacks, and all the cake he can eat. That's what made the cute little Honey Senpai happy and content. Now, all that cake became the stuff from his nightmares. When food becomes numbers and calculations, its impossible to ever look at it the same. Will the cute little Mitsukuni ever recover? Or will his dangerous new habits take his life?(Warning: The contents in this fic are extremely triggering. If you have a history of eating disorders it is recommended that you do not read this. If you choose to read this, please read with caution. If the contents get too intense for you, do not be afraid to click out.)





	No More Cake For Me

 

“One hundred...forty six…..one hundred forty..seven….one hundred forty eight….” 

The quiet grunts ring through the room of the precious shota boy. Sweat drips down his forehead as he finishes his last couple sit ups. He stares at the clock. 5:55 am. 

“It’s still early,” he spoke to himself, taking a sip of the chilled bottle of water he had with him, “I did a lot for this morning. I need a break. I can’t miss training today.” 

He began to crawl onto his bed to take a much needed cool down period, but before he had the chance to make himself comfortable, a familiar string of thoughts invaded his mind. 

‘ **What the fuck are you doing? Do you think that was enough to burn the disgusting lumps of fat you have carrying around your body? How can you ever expect to be skinny when you’re too fucking lazy to even work out. You make everyone laugh. This is the reason no one loves you. No one likes a lazy fatass** .’ 

The intrusive thoughts ran through his mind for a moment, leaving him defenseless against himself. He looked down at his arms, his thighs, his stomach. Despite already being have a small frame and skinny figure, all he saw was fat. His eyes would trick him, making him picture rolls of fat on his body. He pinched at the skin on his stomach, subconsciously picturing it as a gigantic roll of belly fat. The false image brought him to tears and back down on his bedroom floor. He laid onto his back and started another set of 150 sit ups. 

“One...two...three…” he started yet again. 

 

It’s hard to pinpoint when it all began. Perhaps it wasn’t a sudden beginning, but a gradual experience of events. Was it the comments of his weight gain and increased cake intake by his brother that sparked it? Was it the audible grunts from Takashi whenever he picked him up? Or was it the guests commenting on his cute chubby cheeks? Was it everything combined? There’s no way to tell, but whatever went wrong had deadly consequences. 

The illness that corrupted his mind for life, that permanently changed his view on the world, it didn’t start out as bad as it grew. It began with eating less and less cake. 

“I don’t need it!”, he’d tell himself. “I eat enough already!” 

Whenever anyone offered him a slice hed politely deny. Cake had become a special treat rather than his main source of food. 

Soon after came the calorie counting. He would strategically count every calorie for every ingredient in every meal. If a food had too many calories, he wouldn’t eat it. He kept his intake all under 1,200 calories, about 1,000 less than he usually ate. His calorie intake would start to decrease even more as time went on. 

Next came the spike in exercise. Being the expert in martial arts that he was, he already exercised and trained extensively. He started exercising about twice as much as usual. Every morning when he woke up it was sit ups, push ups, crunches, planks, wall sits, running in circles, and so on. Whatever exercise he could have possibly been able to do in his room, he did. He started waking up earlier to exercise more in the morning, and he stayed up later to get some last minute, before sleep training. 

The most recent habits of his are the binging and purging. As his calorie intake shrunk, his body went insane. Some days, he would zone in on food and eat everything in sight. The binge cycles started up and the urge sparking every couple days. Soon after came the purging. The disgust of copious amounts of food entering his body absolutely revolted him. The only quick way out was back the way it came in. Throwing up soon became a normal part of his routine.

This was his life now. It had only been around 2 months and his mind was corrupted by the demon whom was determined to destroy his body. His eyes and thoughts lying to him daily, making it unable for him to even look at himself without feeling sick to his stomach. He could not see any possible escape from this living hell, nor did he want to seek help. He had convinced himself that this was a good thing, that this was supposed to happen. He hated himself, but he didn’t want to get better. He refused to. He told himself lies, claiming he’d recover once he lost another pound. He never did. The mantra would repeat with every pound he lost, yet he was never truly satisfied. 

After another set of painful sit ups, he looked up at the clock again, 6:00 am on the dot. He winced, standing up and feeling the mild pain of doing 300 sit ups taking a toll on his back. He made his way into the bathroom, a place of both heaven and hell for him. His eyes met with the scale and anxiety ran through his body. He nervously stripped down. He needed to so he can get the most accurate weight. He shut his eyes tightly as he stepped onto the scale, his heart beating out of his chest. As his eyes slowly opened up, he felt a wave of relief. 91.7 pounds. That was 2 pounds lower than yesterday. Overall, Mitsukuni had lost 24 pounds in the 2 months since his habits had started. Despite losing so much weight, he still wasn’t happy. He wanted to, no, needed to lose more. The thoughts and fantasies of losing more and more weight fluttered throughout his mind as he stepped in the shower, freezing drops of water sprinkling all over his body. The more his mind ran, the more he craved it. This was by far more satisfying than any food has ever been. Why stop now? 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! If you enjoyed the first chapter of this work I am really glad! If there are some things here that bother you don't be afraid to leave a comment. I am open to constructive criticism and won't take any offense whatsoever. I am planning writing other chapters which I will hopefully upload soon, but id love to know if you guys want more!


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